He shook his head. “Are you ever going to learn how to say my last name?”

“Nope.” I took another bite of the fruit.

Nico sighed. “If your kids were like Angelica would you want kids?”

I nodded automatically, again not really thinking through all the ramifications of my response. “Hell yes.”

“Hmm . . .” He leaned back, peered at me as though assessing a possibility. “Let me ask you this question a different way, but understand that this is purely hypothetical, there is no double meaning here, I’m not proposing anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“If the children were yours and mine, if we had children together, would you want kids?”

My eyebrows lifted then lowered then lifted again; finally they settled into a knot, a deep V between my eyes.

Kids with Nico.

My gaze unconsciously swept over him. I thought about how funny they would be, how sweet, smart, and kind. They might have his eyes and eye-twinkle me into submission. I thought about taking little girls to baseball games and little boys to music lessons.

My heart was behaving erratically. It hurt, then it felt warm, then it twisted, then it felt full.

Do I want to have children with Nico?

For some inexplicable reason, adding Nico into the equation changed everything.

Our children.

“I don’t know.” I answered honestly and sounded as confused as I felt.

This time his smile was huge and split his face. “Okay. Good. No need to decide now.”

I frowned at him, lightly huffed. “I’m—”

He waved my words away as though anxious to change the subject. “I talked to Dan today.”

“Dan?” I was still caught in a web of confusion, my brain not quite ready to switch topics.

“Your usual guard? Stocky guy with neck tattoos? From Boston?”

“Ah. Yes. He’s nice.”

“Yeah, well, he said there hasn’t been any further issues or sightings of Menayda.”

“Menayda?”

“The woman you refer to as Fancy Stalker.”

“Oh. No. Last time I saw her was Monday. I told you about that.”

“I also had a discussion with Detective Long about pursuing a restraining order. I think you should file for one.” Nico stacked our plates and moved them to his dresser, effectively clearing the bed.

I nodded absentmindedly, stared unseeingly at his comforter. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Elizabeth?”

I met his gaze. He stood at the edge of the bed, hovered over me. He was watching me, his eyes sober.

“Yes?”

“I’m asking you to get a restraining order.” His voice and eyes were steel.

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes. Okay. I’ll call Detective Long tomorrow.”

“Good.” He frowned, then said mostly to himself, “That was easy.”

“Hey! You make me sound like I’m difficult! I’m not difficult, I’m just always right.”

“Not always.” His grin was teasing as he reached for the hem of my shirt.

I couldn’t help but say, “Mostly always.”

~*~

That night Nico and I slept together as he held me in his arms.

Let me repeat that: Nico and I slept together as he held me in his arms.

In some ways it felt like coming home, familiar. In other ways it was frightening, risky. In still other ways it was just difficult to comprehend.

He spooned me, my back against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. Just before I fell asleep I thought I heard him whisper, “Finally.”

Chapter 24

I woke up when it was still dark to Nico lavishing my skin with sloppy, wet kisses. At first I thought it was a dream, and I didn’t want to wake up. Then, when I realized wet sloppy kisses from Nico’s mouth were my reality I pinched myself so I would wake up faster. Furthermore, when he leisurely scaled down the length of my body I almost died. Instead I reached maximum mindless bliss with embarrassing speed and intensity; I clasped my hands over my mouth to keep from yodeling his praises to the walls and the inhabitants beyond.

I felt boneless. I couldn’t seem to move my limbs with any coordination. But before I could form a complete thought, Nico apparently decided that once was not enough and this time he was going to come along for the rodeo.

Again, I had to turn my head into the pillow to keep from waking up the entire floor of the building.

Afterward, he lay on top of me with unsteady limbs, wrapped his arms around my torso, held me pinned. He nearly crushed me with his weight. I loved it. I loved him. I loved waking up in his arms.

It was like Christmas and Easter and my birthday and winning the lottery and learning that I could live inside a rainbow without the tradeoff of being a leprechaun. My mind was blown. This was real. He was real.

When our breathing normalized from approximately six minutes of love making, Nico nuzzled my ear and whispered, “Good morning.”

I smiled, pressed my cheek against his. “Yes. Good morning indeed.”

He shifted to the side, one arm still around me; the other hand petting my skin. “Will you stay with me every night?”

I nodded. “If you wake me up like that every morning.”

“Deal. We should shake on it, maybe get some papers drawn up, in front of some lawyers, have a notary sign . . .maybe a priest . . .”

I laughed lightly. But, then, when I noticed his expression was serious I immediately sobered. “Nico.”

“Elizabeth.”

“What . . . what are you saying?” I was having a hard time concentrating as his big hand was currently meandering over my body in all the right places.

“You should think about it.”

“What? Think about what?”

I watched as he hesitated, swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I don’t want to rush you.”

My eyebrows lifted; I stilled his hand on my chest. “Rush me how?”

“I need you. I want us to be together.”

“We are together.”

“No. I mean . . .” He sucked in a large breath and released it. He smelled like me and mint toothpaste. “I mean I want us to make it official. I want us to get married.”

Then time stopped or sped up or did something.

One minute I was laying in Nico’s arms, having a conversation, and the next minute I was out of the bed locked in the bathroom, alone. I didn’t know how long I’d been standing in front of the sink with the water running. All I knew was I hadn’t responded to Nico’s statement. In fact, I hadn’t said anything at all.

My mind couldn’t seem to settle on one thought for any length of time; it was like being showered in fortune cookie slips and trying to read them all at once. I shut off the faucet, apparently having brushed my teeth at some point, and turned on the shower. When the shower was over I must have dried myself off and gotten dressed because I was suddenly sitting on the edge of Nico’s bed, in my scrubs, in my shoes and socks.

“Elizabeth?”

I started, searched for the owner of the voice. It was Nico. He hovered in the doorway to his room. He wasn’t smiling.

“Are you all right?”

I nodded. But I knew my eyes—wide and alarmed—betrayed me.

He watched me for a moment then sighed, slowly crossed to the bed and sat beside me. “Look. Forget I said anything. Call it temporary insanity.”

“Okay.”

His eyes searched mine, narrowed a little; I was struck suddenly that he was looking for something. I didn’t know what it was or how to give it to him so I just met his gaze and allowed him to stare. After a long moment he gripped my braid at the back of my head and pulled me forward, his lips pressed against my forehead.

“I’m sorry. Can we forget I said anything?”

I nodded again. “Okay.” If I was confused before I was now downright muddled.

His arms slipped around me, and he dipped me back to the bed, held me tightly as he kissed me. It was a nice kiss that quickly turned into a very nice kiss. Then it drove right past extremely nice kiss into the land of smokin’ hot kiss.

Before things could escalate he pressed his lips to the corner of my mouth and pulled away, held me at an arms distance.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes. I’m just . . . I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed. Maybe a bit confused.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Please.” I moved my palm to cup his face, and he leaned against it, closed his eyes. “Just . . . give me a minute to find my bearings, okay?”

He swallowed again, his eyes still closed. “I think I can do that.”

“I need to play some catch up.”

“I’ll wait as long as you need.” His voice was gruff. It broke my heart. His eyes were still closed.

I couldn’t think of anything to say. There was no way to segue this conversation into something benign without feeling false and fake. Instead I pulled him to me, hugged him, held him, until I left him.

~*~

The fact that I’d spent the night wasn’t awkward because Rose pretended like I hadn’t spent the night.

So, in other words, it was extremely awkward.

She smiled at me in a very foxlike way, asked about my plans for the weekend, grinned and gloated into her coffee. No verbal mention of the fact that I’d slept over, just knowing looks and approving smiles.